


an excess of dangerous curiosity

by princesskay



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: It’s wrong and ugly, but he doesn’t have his mother here to throw open the door on his perverted desires. His curiosity is like a weed; if he doesn’t kill it at the source, it will continue to grow uncontrollably until he has no choice but to succumb to the idea - but he doesn’t want to kill it.After the Brudos interviews, Holden is curious to explore the killer's fascination with high heels and women's clothing - and he drags Bill into the fantasy along with him.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	an excess of dangerous curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Another great request from Lucy. (thanks, hon) This is probably the sluttiest thing I have ever written.

Holden’s mother had spent most of his childhood trying to curb her son’s voracious curiosity, and for the most part, had succeeded. While he was encouraged to excel in school, more delicate questions - like those pertaining to sex - were pushed to the side or ignored entirely in favor of puritanical, virginal living as outlined in the Bible. He’d understood early on that he was expected to grow up, date a nice girl, marry her, and have children. Sex was a mechanical function of biology, intended for the sole purpose of reproduction. 

The indoctrination hadn’t stuck. When he was about fourteen years old, his mother had walked in on him masturbating. Aside from it being one of the most embarrassing moments in his life, the memory stands out to him more because of his mother’s visceral reaction rather than his own. There are several passages in the Bible about not giving into fleshly desires, and she had used every single one to inform him why touching himself is prohibited by God.

She’d had every good intention when she raised her child in a religious environment, but it had taken years for him to unlearn the religious paranoia that comes with beating the idea into a young child’s brain that some powerful, vengeful God up in Heaven can see every single thing he does. 

After taking a few psychology courses in college, he’d started to wonder if that moment when the door of his bedroom flung open and his mother’s aghast expression of horror had fallen on his vapid self-indulgence had been the moment that he began to repress every sexual impulse he’d ever had. 

He’d lived a sheltered life up until highschool graduation, but he could have found ways to better inform himself about sex - only he hadn’t. He plunged into college with a skeleton understanding of intercourse and male-female relationships, stumbling through most of it with as much dignity as he could until his friends and roommates finally stopped asking why he wasn't seeing anyone. 

Since then his dating life had been quiet. He masturbated if he felt like it, but on a whole, sex languished low at the bottom of his priority list. Until he met Debbie. Debbie changed everything. Debbie taught him that his desires aren’t shameful. She taught him how to do foreplay, how to eat pussy, how control the pace so he doesn’t cum three thrusts in - a sexual awakening at the age of twenty-nine thanks to teenage horniness intersecting with parental scrutiny. 

She’d unlocked a door inside of him that held back a flood, and he let himself drown it, suddenly realizing just how starved he’d been for that kind of attention and connection with another human being. He’d soon realized it simply wasn’t enough, and his tenacious curiosity, though smothered for over a decade, still reached bottomless, untapped depths that he longed to explore. 

***

The thing with Bill started almost exactly the way his relationship with Debbie had - one night, too many drinks, a little bit of confidence, an excess of dangerous curiosity. 

They’d just come back from having a drink with some of the cops from the local precinct where they were teaching road school, and Holden was collapsed on his bed, too tipsy from one too many bourbons to consider changing out of his work clothes into pajamas. He could barely string together a logical thought, save for one. 

Gazing through unfocused eyes across the hotel room at Bill lying in his underwear on his bed, he wondered if Bill had ever touched another man. He wondered if he had liked it, or if it ashamed him. He wondered how far it had gone - a handjob, brushing up against the borderline of the law, or the full illegality of anal penetration? 

Before he knew it, he was walking across the room, and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Bill looked up at him over the rim of his reading glasses, and asked, “Can I help you?” 

Holden’s heart was pounding, but it hadn’t stopped him from putting a hand on Bill’s thigh and slowly pushing it upward. 

He’d been surprised by how little Bill protested, giving only a faint, whimpered, “Holden, what the fuck?” just before Holden’s fingers slithered under the hem of his boxers. He’d flinched softly to the first touch, but when Holden’s fumbling, unskilled fingers wrapped around the shaft, his legs fell compliantly open. After a few moments of Holden touching him in silence, he’d leaned forward to grasp Holden’s nape. They were both breathing hard as he tugged his boxers down, and gently guided Holden’s hand back over his bare cock. 

Holden had seen plenty of other men’s penises through work or in the locker room, but he’d never been this close to one so aroused, let alone touched it. He trembled as he wrapped his fingers around the girth of it, awestruck by the size and hardness of it. When Bill came in hot, slick bursts across his knuckles, he could hardly believe what he’d done, that he’d been the cause of it, that he’d had the nerve to do it. Then, he didn’t have much time to think about it because Bill was touching him back, the big, calloused grasp of his hand so unlike Debbie’s small, soft palm or even his own touch. 

After that, Holden quickly learned just how far Bill was willing to go in regards to the law and touching another man. Debbie had shown him a lot of things, but never anything related to anal sex. The first time Bill fucked him, he’d nearly cried into the pillow, overwhelmed, ashamed, but more than unbearably aroused. He was grateful Bill knew what he was doing because it could have hurt otherwise. But it didn’t hurt. It felt incredible, and Holden saw an entire world of possibility open up before him that he’d been blind to only months prior. 

***

Perhaps if he’d begun interviewing serial killers five years ago when he was still a brick agent fresh out of the Academy, Holden would have been too scared to attempt initiating sex with Bill, but he’s way past fear now. The repressed, longing version of him that had gone through college nervous and alone could have never dreamed what he’s dreaming when he leaves the third and final interview with Jerry Brudos.

The story about Jerry’s mom burning the stilettos sticks in his mind all through the flight home. He watches the wisps of clouds sift over the wing of the plane while the image of sleek, black shoes and ropes tying fragile wrists wanders across the back of his mind. Shame lurches against the growing knot of desire in his belly, but he can’t banish the fantasies extending and clinging like overgrown ivy across his brain. 

It’s wrong and ugly, but he doesn’t have his mother here to throw open the door on his perverted desires. His curiosity is like a weed; if he doesn’t kill it at the source, it will continue to grow uncontrollably until he has no choice but to succumb to the idea - but he doesn’t want to kill it. 

Holden succumbs, easily, hungrily. 

A few weeks after the Brudos interview, they’re on a plane to Joliet, Illinois to interview Richard Speck. Bill is annoyed, but Holden knows it won’t last long - at least, only until they reach the hotel with just enough time in between the appointment at the jail and their arrival to guarantee Holden satisfaction. 

Bill drives them to the hotel in the rental car, insisting upon stopping along the way at the Dairy Queen for lunch and ice cream. Holden checks his watch, impatiently. 

“You got somewhere to be besides the prison?” Bill asks once they’re back on the road. 

“No.” Holden says, “We’re actually making good time. We’ve got an hour or so before we need to get to the interview.” 

Bill cuts him a pointed glare from across the car. 

Holden purses his mouth over the coy smile struggling to burst up from the eagerness writhing in his belly. 

“What?” Bill says, shifting his gaze back to the road. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.” 

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. I know that look.” 

“Well, I guess you’ll find out.” 

“Find out?” 

“When we get there.” 

Bill shifts forward in his seat, bracing his fist around the wheel until his knuckles bleach white. His expression doesn’t change, but Holden can read the quiver working along his jawline, the minute wrinkle of his eyes squinting against anticipation. 

When they reach the hotel, Bill goes into the office to check them in. He returns with the room key in hand, and unlocks the trunk to retrieve their suitcases. 

Holden follows him down the sidewalk of the motel to their room. While Bill unlocks the door, Holden scans the half-empty parking lot. The place is a little sad and run-down, the kind of establishment that might house some shady dealings. Holden bites his lip over the thought that he’s just another cheap whore checking in for a quick and dirty fuck. Whatever shame he feels is quickly fanned into desire by the sound of the door swinging open, and the silhouette of Bill’s broad shoulders dappled in midday sunlight as he enters the room. 

Holden slips in behind him, and eases the door shut. His hand holds a tremor as he turns the lock. 

“Whatever you have planned, you better make it quick.” Bill says as he throws his suitcase down on the bed, and turns around to pin Holden with a stern gaze. 

He likes to play hard to get, as if he doesn’t enjoy their trysts as much as Holden does. The fit he pitches never lasts long. It usually ends right when Holden’s mouth is stretching over his dick. 

“Stay here.” Holden says. 

Bill’s confidence wavers, a frown knitting his brow. 

Holden carries his suitcase into the bathroom, and pushes the door shut behind him. Setting the suitcase on the closed lid of the toilet, he opens it up to reveal the impeccably ironed and folded trousers and shirts - and the shoes tucked in between to avoid crushing their shape. 

Holden cuts a glance at the narrow, water-stained mirror hanging over the sink. His eyes are wide, and his cheeks are flushed pink. His chest is rising with exhilarated, nervous breaths. 

Drawing in a deep breath, he strips out of his clothes. As his underwear come off, he clamps his mouth shut over the moan that grips the back of his throat. He’s already getting hard just looking at the items that he’d packed, and wonders how long he’s going to last once he puts the costume on. Certainly not much longer than it takes for Bill to get him slicked up and open, and his cock inside. 

Folding his clothes and setting them aside, Holden takes the other items out of the suitcase - red, satiny underwear with a g-string, pantyhose, black heels, and the handcuffs. He’d purchased them all separately to avoid suspicion. None of them felt too terribly bad on their own, but seeing them all together, putting them on one-by-one, he can’t suppress the heat scalding his cheeks or the throbbing need coiling tightly around his groin. 

He’s carefully rising to his feet in the high heels when the sound of Bill’s knuckles rapping on the door nearly causes his heart to convulse out of his chest. 

“Holden? What are you doing in there?” 

Holden clings to ceramic lip of the sink, clutching a hand over his chest. His anxious gaze takes in his reflection, dressed up in the ridiculous outfit that he’d spent weeks dreaming about. It’s too late for second-guesses or to wonder whether Bill will actually be in to this sort of thing. 

Walking carefully in the heels to the bathroom door, Holden grasps the handle, and draws in a steadying breath. He twists the doorknob, and pulls it open a crack. 

Bill frowns at him from the other side of the door. “Holden, what are you ...?” 

His voice trails off as Holden opens the door wider, revealing the erotic apparel. His gaze goes up and down Holden’s body, catching on the front of the skimpy underwear where Holden’s cock is jutting obscenely against the slippery stretch of the hose before working its way back up to Holden’s wide eyes and red cheeks. 

“Do you like it?” Holden whispers, his voice trembling. 

Bill swallows hard, his eyes squinting in alternating turns of disbelief and desire. “I, uh …” 

Holden lets the door swing all the way open. The sound of the knob hitting the bathroom wall echoes loudly against the taut silence stretching out between them. 

Holden takes a tentative step out of the bathroom, and braces a hand against Bill’s chest to hide the fact that his ankles are wobbling in the heels. 

Bill’s gaze darts down to glimpse the black heels with the ankle straps. 

“Are those the same kind of shoes that you gave Brudos?” He asks, his voice strained in between disgust and need. 

“Yes.” Holden whispers. 

Bill grasps his hips, the warmth of his fingers sinking through the thin layer of hosiery. Holden draws in a hitched breath, closing his eyes momentarily against the sting of shame needling his throat. 

“I hope you know how fucked up this is.” Bill says. 

“Yes. You didn’t answer my question.” Holden says, opening his eyes to meet Bill’s gaze. 

“What?”

“Do you like it?” 

Bill’s nostrils flare with a deep breath, and his eyes dart away. 

“Nobody knows what we’re doing.” Holden says, “I certainly won’t judge you.” 

“No shit. You’re the one in heels and goddamn g-string.” Bill says, his eyes cutting back to Holden’s with gripping intensity. He shifts closer, his palm sliding down to grasp Holden’s ass through the pantyhose. “You look like a whore.” 

Holden mutes a whimper as Bill kisses him. Bill always kisses like he’s angry, like he’s trying to win a fight. He’s quick to get his teeth involved, biting Holden’s lower lip until it hurts, leaving hickeys scattered just below where his collar sits so they’re hidden from view when they’re in public. The way he kisses Holden now feels like a new brand of this reckless need, as if he’s trying to punish Holden for this obscene display while also encouraging it. 

When he pulls back, Holden pants breathlessly. He hesitantly shifts his gaze up to take in Bill’s spit-slick mouth, his eyes burning with quiet need. 

“I’m a whore?” He asks, slowly bringing his other hand out from behind his back. 

Bill’s brows furrow as Holden opens his hand to reveal the pair of handcuffs clutched in his palm. 

“Then maybe you should arrest me, Agent Tench.” Holden continues, his confidence swelling as Bill’s cheeks begin to blush the same color as Holden’s underwear. 

Bill presses his eyes shut. “Fuck, Holden.” 

“Come on, play along.” Holden urges, leaning into him.

Bill opens his eyes. “Arrest you for what?” 

“Whatever you want.” Holden says, “Public indecency?” 

Bill draws back, scanning Holden’s half-nude body, his cock barely contained by the thin, lewd stripe of underwear. 

“You’re indecent, all right.” He says, swiping the handcuffs from Holden’s limp fingers. “That right there should be a crime.” 

Holden bites his lower lip, and extends his wrists. “Then take me away.”

Bill fiddles with the latch of the handcuff for a moment before grasping Holden by the forearm and dragging him closer. He presses the cuff over Holden’s extended wrist, and squeezes it shut. 

Holden winces as the metal clasp cinches tightly around his wrist, just enough to pinch through thin skin into bone if he tried to resist. 

Bill shuts the manacle around the other wrist, and guides him into the room by the chain attaching the two. Holden stumbles after him, unbalanced on the heels. He’d attempted to walk in them a few times at home, but not enough to stride after Bill with confidence. The unsteady gait only feeds the intensity of the roleplay, however, as Bill drags him to the bed with unnecessary force. 

Holden drops to the edge of the mattress, and casts Bill a wide-eyed gaze. 

“Where are you taking me?” He asks. 

“Booking.” Bill says, apparently given over to indulging in Holden’s little fantasy. “Ever spent a night behind bars, little boy?”

Holden’s cheeks flush.  _ Jesus Christ, he’s been hiding things from me.  _

Bill grasps him by the chin, forcing his gaze back up. 

“No.” Holden whispers, “Please, Agent Tench, isn’t there something we can do to work this out between us?” 

“Work it out?” Bill’s eyes narrow, and his grip tightens around Holden’s chin. 

“Yes. Maybe you can let me go if I do something for you.” 

Bill’s jaw clenches as Holden carefully extricates the chain of the handcuffs from his grip, and drags his hands down Bill’s stomach. As he reaches Bill’s groin, he clasps both hands over the bulge of his erection growing steadily against straining fabric. 

Bill mutes a groan, and clutches Holden’s forearm to ease the pace of his stroking. 

“You’re bribing me?” He asks, “With a blowjob?” 

“Yes, I’m very good at sucking cock. You won’t regret it.” Holden murmurs, tugging at the fasten of Bill’s trousers. “Let me show you.” 

“That’s illegal. I think I’m going to need more than a blowjob to let you off.” 

“What else do you want?” Holden asks. 

He manages to get the button of Bill’s trousers open, and tugs at the zipper. The fabric parts, letting his cock emerge, barely restrained by his boxers. Holden pets it gently, encouraging the pulsing tempo beginning to surge up and down the length of him. 

“Well,” Bill says, swallowing back a grunt of need. “I’m risking my job. I think I should be able to lay down the terms.” 

Holden peels the waistband of his boxers back, releasing the swollen, pink head from its confines. 

Bill’s hand clutches his hair, dragging him closer. 

Holden strips the underwear and trousers down his thighs, and grabs onto the thick, pulsing shaft. He uses both hands to grip the root since they’re handcuffed together, guiding Bill’s cock to his mouth.

Bill groans when his cock goes into Holden’s mouth, throbbing head reaching the back of his tongue on the first thrust. 

“Jesus. Fuck.” Bill whispers, his knuckles going taut against his grip on Holden’s nape. 

Holden sucks up and down the length, letting saliva gather on the back of his tongue and glaze down the shaft. The strokes are swift and easy, filling the air with the slick sound of Bill’s cock pushing back against the suction of Holden’s lips and cheeks. 

Bill drags Holden’s mouth off his cock, uttering a breathless groan. Holden revolts against Bill’s grip on his hair, mouth reaching for Bill’s slick, pink cock bobbing just out of his reach. 

“Stop for a second.” Bill says, giving him a shake. “Didn’t you hear me? I said, I’m going to need more than a blowjob.” 

Holden pauses to cast Bill a coy gaze, eyelashes fluttering. “I heard you, Agent Tench. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

“Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Bill draws in a deep breath, and rubs his thumb across Holden’s flushed cheeks, against the slick swell of his lower lip. “Christ, you really are a whore.” 

“Mm,” Holden mutters, his voice choked with a groan. “And I’m all yours tonight.” 

Bill releases him, and takes a step back. Kicking his trousers from his ankles, he reaches up to loosen his tie, and unbutton his shirt. As he discards the rest of his clothes, he nods at the bedspread. 

“Lay back.” 

Holden drags himself to the middle of the mattress, and sinks back against the sheets. Raising his cuffed hands over his head, he spreads his legs open. 

Bill crawls onto the bed between his open thighs, his gaze wandering over the thin, stretched nylon of the hose struggling to contain Holden’s throbbing cock. The scarce underwear barely manage to cover his cock and balls, letting the tip slip free against his hipbone. 

Bill slides his palm down Holden’s inner thigh. The scrape of his skin making contact with the pantyhose sends a frisson of need down to his core where everything is already melted down and unbearably hot with arousal. 

Holden’s feet push into the mattress, and he feels the heel of the stiletto snag in the thin, scratchy fabric of the cheap bedspread. 

Bill crawls between his thighs, and reaches up to grip the handcuff chain, pinning it to the mattress. 

Holden wriggles, his body flushing hot as Bill peruses his bare chest rising and falling with gasping breaths and his belly quivering against the stretch of hose. His palm cruises up Holden’s inner thigh and against his hip, and Holden cries out before it even touches his cock. His eyes squeeze shut, a desperate moan piling against the back of his throat as the hot pressure of Bill’s palm comes to rest over his trapped erection. 

Bill hums a sound of pleasure. “God, you’re hard.” 

Holden squirms beneath the languishing touch, biting his lip over a plea. After a moment, Bill has mercy, and begins to rub his palm up and down the length, massaging nylon and satin into aching skin. 

“Oh fuck.” Holden groans, his hips lurching up into the caress. Tingles swarm between his hips, threatening to break him beneath the force of pleasure just a few minutes into the encounter. 

Bill’s rubbing eases. He finds the waistband of the underwear through the slippery hose, and manages to work it back from Holden’s cockhead without removing the nylon. The tip of Holden’s cock slides free of the underwear to press up against the hose. 

His fluttering eyelids crack open to watch as Bill’s thumb pushes against the thin layer of hose, finding the slit wet with pre-cum. Pleasure lances him hotly through the middle, and he lurches against Bill’s grip on the handcuffs. 

“Oh my god.” He moans, panting hard as Bill’s thumb circles down against the leaking head in repeated, steady motions. “Fuck, please.” 

Bill chuckles softly, and bends down to drop a kiss against Holden’s shuddering belly. He nuzzles lower, mouth traveling below the waistband of the hose to locate Holden’s cock squirming helplessly underneath. He pauses just long enough for the anticipation to build to an unbearable ache, stirring the frantic need clawing at Holden’s insides with the hot wash of his breath before he extends his tongue. 

Holden gasps a sob as the scalding, wet heat of Bill’s tongue absorbs rapidly through the nylon and into the pulsing head of his cock. The scratchy fabric plasters against his skin until he can feel the tiny grains of the nylon rubbing across his cockhead beneath the duress of Bill’s tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” Holden cries, his hips twisting beneath caress. “Please, Bill.” 

Bill draws back, leaving the hose to dry and cool against Holden’s twitching cock. He casts Holden a heavy-lidded gaze. “You mean  _ Agent Tench.  _ What happened to your manners?” 

Holden presses his eyes shut, trying to control the whimpered moan that surges up his throat. He swallows it back, and tries again, “Please, Agent Tench, I’m so close. Please, let me come.” 

Bill’s head tilts to one side as he ponders this request, and Holden can see that he’s not giving it much consideration. 

“No, not yet.” Bill says, finally.

Holden bites his lower lip, breathing out an impatient whimper through his nostrils. 

“You said you would do anything.” Bill reminds him as he bends down to place a slow kiss below Holden’s ear. 

Holden shudders as Bill’s mouth travels wetly down his throat, finding the tender spots that makes waves of tingles surge down his spine. His hand stays firmly around the center chain of the handcuffs, keeping Holden’s arms trapped above his head while his mouth makes its way along Holden’s collarbones. 

“I will.” Holden whispers, arching his back to the touch as Bill’s mouth makes its way down his chest. “Whatever you want. Anything …” 

Bill’s teeth snag on his nipple, and Holden’s promises dwindle into groans. He squirms helplessly as Bill’s mouth curls slick and hot around the skin, sucking it gently across his tongue before employing his teeth across the tender bit of flesh. 

Holden gasps at the sudden bolt of pleasure that goes straight to his belly. He’s played with Debbie’s nipples plenty of times, but he’s never been on the receiving end. It tickles, and hurts, and feels overwhelmingly good all at once, and he can’t tell whether he wants to twist away from it or lean into the torturous pleasure.

Bill allows Holden’s nipple to slide free of his mouth, and he leans back to meet Holden’s wrecked expression of need. 

“You’re not going to come until I say.” Bill murmurs, stroking his thumb across Holden’s wet nipple. 

Holden bites back a moan. 

“You want me to let you go? Then, you’re going to take my cock like a good boy.” Bill continues, his voice low and steady around the promise, as he bends to press a kiss to Holden’s gasping lips. Their mouths brush against one another, eyes staring back and forth over the scant space between them when he adds, “I’m going to fill that sweet, tight asshole of yours with cum.” 

Holden’s mouth slips open as heat rushes to his cheeks, burning so hard through his face and chest that he feels like he might catch flame. 

“You’re going to be begging for it.” Bill says, “Then, and only then, will I  _ consider  _ letting you come.” 

Holden begins to moan, and Bill kisses him hard, smothering the sound of his need with the forceful press of lips and teeth. 

Holden is breathless and dizzy by the time Bill’s mouth lets up. He’s too delirious with need to realize what’s happening until Bill turns him over onto his stomach, and pushes his face into the sheets. He guides Holden’s cuffed wrists over his head and against the back of his neck. 

Holden’s hands stay obediently locked against his nape when Bill’s grip retreats. The mattress dips under Bill’s weight, and Holden hears him walk across the carpet to his discarded suitcase. The zipper grinds open. Bill digs in the suitcase for a moment before his footfalls return. 

Holden tries not to squirm against the sheets. He knows Bill was retrieving the Vaseline, and that means his promises aren’t far off. 

The bed groans as Bill climbs onto the mattress between Holden’s splayed thighs. 

Holden fights the urge to lift his head and look back; he’s enjoying the blind anticipation, the heady edge of danger the layer of fiction is lending this encounter. Bill has never said such things to him in bed before, let alone indicated he would be interested in doing so. It’s usually more straightforward, a sudden hand on Holden’s thigh, or an urging grunt and nod for Holden to get on his knees to instigate sex. Holden wants to extend this thread of fantasy as far as he can, wants to follow it into the dark to see where it leads, what other secret longings he can extract into the light of day. 

Bill’s mouth brushes against the bunched tension in Holden’s bare shoulder. He plants a smattering of kisses there before his mouth stamps down harder, lips pulling back from teeth, applying suction.

Holden’s spine arches beneath the stinging, sucking kisses traveling lower, leaving saliva and faint, blooming hickeys in their wake. Bill’s palms climb the backs of Holden’s thighs, grazing across nylon before reaching his hips and sinking in. The brutal kisses reach a simmer at the taut dip in Holden’s spine while Bill’s hands gather his backside, massaging their way hungrily across Holden’s ass cheeks until they reach the seam at the center of the pantyhose. 

Holden’s breath catches in his throat as Bill’s fingers sink into the delicate fabric, easily rending it open across his ass. The sound of ripping nylon rakes across Holden’s quaking senses, encouraging the arousal bursting between his thighs. 

Cool air hits Holden’s bare skin, sharp and aching against hot, throbbing need. He smothers a moan into the sheets as Bill’s mouth follows the swell of his backside, planting hot, suckling kisses along the way. 

Abruptly, Bill’s mouth lifts from his skin, leaving the kisses humming in tingling patches across Holden’s bare skin. His palm grazes down Holden’s back to find the waistband of the underwear. He curls his fist around the delicate strings, and pulls the thong taut between Holden’s ass cheeks. 

“Get on your knees.” Bill says. 

The tugging is already forcing Holden’s body into compliance. He scrambles to his knees to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure of the satin going taut against his half-exposed cock and the string drawn forcefully tight across the cleft. The heels are cumbersome on his feet, getting caught up the sheets, but he manages to get into position. 

The pressure lets up once Holden is kneeling and bent over with his face still buried in the sheets. He breathes hard into the bedspread, struggling not to squirm against the cool, empty air. 

Bill isn’t touching him anymore, but Holden can hear the scrape of the Vaseline lid coming off. His body clenches instinctively, flooding his veins with fresh heat. His cock squirms against the scarce trap of the underwear and pantyhose where he can feel himself leaking pre-cum with every violent throb of need that surges through him. 

Hooking his thumb on the string, Bill tugs the underwear aside to expose Holden’s puckered opening. Bill’s fingertips brush up against it, and Holden’s mouth stretches open against the sheets, choking on a gasp. His whole body seizes at the feathery caress of Bill’s thumb rubbing dry against his hole, stirring hot friction. 

Gripping the underwear to the side, Bill leans in to press his tongue in place of his fingers. The wet, wriggling pressure spills across Holden’s nerve-endings, igniting a fresh wave of pulsing need to his cock. He’s so hard already he feels like he could burst against the fragile sheen of nylon, but Bill had promised not to let him orgasm until he’s been thoroughly fucked. 

Bill’s tongue swirls slowly against him for a long, torturous moment before drawing back. Saliva cools against his skin, and he shudders, fighting the urge to thrust back eagerly. 

“You like that, hm?” Bill mutters, his breath whispering across Holden’s skin. 

“Yes.” Holden groans. 

Bill’s thumb pushes against the opening wet with saliva, dipping in just far enough for Holden to feel the responding clench of muscle throughout his whole body. 

“Fuck.” Holden groans, pressing his forehead hard into the mattress. 

Bill’s touch retreats just long enough to slick his fingers in the Vaseline before he touches Holden again. The ointment smears across Holden’s opening in lazy circles, lathering him all up and down the cleft, before the index finger pokes against his hole. 

Holden gasps and quivers, going still against the languid penetration. 

Bill thrusts his finger in slowly, letting Holden feel every inch until it’s submerged to the knuckle. 

Holden moans, and leans back into the pressure. “Yes.” 

Bill clutches his left ass cheek, spreading him open as his finger begins to move. The penetration is slow and deliberate, pumping in and out of his hole until he’s glazed inside and out with the Vaseline, and his body goes limp and compliant to the intrusion. 

“Please.” Holden groans, his thighs trembling as he urges back against it. 

“You want more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Say it.” Bill’s voice is a low, scraped timber that Holden only recognizes inside the four walls of a hotel room, yet this version is somehow darker and deeper, echoing through his brain and down into his bones. 

“Please, I want more.” Holden moans, eager to please. 

Bill exhales a sigh that’s tinged with a pleased groan. He presses another finger into the wet, quaking hole, and the two go deep until Holden’s toes are curling inside the high heels and he’s uttering a high-pitched whine. 

Holden’s head spins with the overload of stimulation - the fingering, the nylon embracing his leaking cock, the handcuffs taut and sharp against his wrists. He can't focus on any one thing as every sensation blazes across his raw senses, but the yearning for orgasm surges above the rest, pounding across the back of his mind like the steady beat of a drum. 

“Please, please …” He hears himself begging, gasping, slobbering into the sheets. 

He wants to beg Bill to stop and thrust his cock inside instead, but his body arches instinctively into the steady pumping of Bill’s hand, taking it and begging for more like the whore he’d admitted to being. 

Holden groans, pressing his forehead into the sheets as his body urges desperately against the fleeting sensation of pleasure sparking across his nerve-endings. He thrusts back against Bill’s hand, trying to urge the skilled, blunt edges of his fingertips down against the sweet spot deep inside that could trigger orgasm, but Bill grasps his squirming hip to hold him in place. 

“Please…” He sniffles, twisting away from the steady violation gradually working him open into gaping passivity. 

Bill’s hand eases a stop, but he doesn’t extract his fingers. 

“Please?” He echoes. 

“Please, sir, I want your cock.” Holden whispers, his face going hot even as he clings to the veil of fantasy. 

Bill’s grasp curls around his ass cheek, and he draws in a hitched breath. 

_ Sir.  _ He liked that. 

“Please, sir,” Holden says it again, pressing a groan into the words, “Fuck me.” 

Bill’s fingers slide out of him, leaving him achingly void. 

Holden shifts on his knees, awaiting the next unfolding stage in this little fantasy. He can hear the wet stroke of Bill’s hand rubbing Vaseline over his cock, and the needy breaths staggering from his chest. He only has to wait a moment longer before the hot, blunt head of Bill’s cock presses up against his hole already smarting from the friction of fingers. 

Holden’s back arches, and a whine stretches from his throat as Bill seizes his hips. The powerful grip holds him in place while the pressure increases, Bill’s cock feeding steadily into his hole, inch by thick, throbbing inch. 

“Oh my God.” Holden groans, his body twitching against the sensation of Bill’s cock stretching him open and filling him to the hilt. 

The first long thrust comes to an end with the slap of Bill’s hips against his ass. Bill grinds down against him, and Holden can feel his cock hitting the depths, tender places that have barely been introduced to such powerful contact. 

Holden stammers a row of breathless gasps. His hips writhe instinctively away from the intense pressure, but Bill’s hand is against his lower back, pinning him place. 

The weight leaves him suddenly. Holden is still gasping and reeling, too caught up in the overload of sensation to complain at the sudden void inside him before it’s abruptly filled again. Bill begins to steadily thrust against him, hips smacking Holden’s bare ass at every point of contact. 

Holden gasps in pleasure, relishing the full, aching sensation of Bill’s cock thrusting him open and taking up every inch of available space inside him. He urges back against the deliberate fucking, finding Bill’s rhythm and matching it. Throbbing need pounds across his mind with every jolt of Bill’s cock inside him, crowding out every other drive, every other want and need. Bill’s cock is rubbing up against him just right, and he feels his groin clamping down tight, longing desperately for release. 

Bill grunts as the thong of the underwear slides out of his grasp, and gets in the way of his smooth, powerful thrusting. Gripping the delicate strings in both fists, he rips them open, and tosses the tatters aside. 

Holden gasps when the sound of stitches snapping breaks past the dull roar of need in his mind. The underwear lapses against his bolting cock. They dangle pointlessly around his waist while his cock leaps past the scarce satin to throb against the lingering stretch of nylon that’s damp with his pre-cum. The coarse sensation of the hosiery rubbing against his cock with every thrust only encourages the need turning to a taut, tingling grip between his thighs. 

Holden’s cuffed hands stretch out from behind his head to grab onto the bed sheets as the rhythm of Bill’s thrusting increases to a deliberate, breath-taking hammering. He half-expects his body to break in two before he has a chance to come, but the rapid pace cuts off abruptly when Bill utters a strangled groan of pleasure. Hot, slick release erupts inside of him, jetting in three copious bursts before easing into a leaking drizzle.

Bill’s hips stagger against Holden’s ass through the spasms, and Holden enjoys every bone-deep tremble that ripples through him. As the orgasm melts away, Bill pulls out, and sinks back on his heels with a heavy sigh of satisfaction. 

Holden mutes a whimper as his used, aching body sinks down against the sheets. His legs are trembling, incapable of holding himself up any longer. As his body makes contact with the mattress, he groans from deep in his chest. 

“Fuck, please.” He moans, rutting his hips deliberately into the sheets. 

Bill watches him struggle for a moment before grasping Holden by the ankle, and turning him onto his back. 

Holden sinks down against the pillow, his face flushing hot. 

Bill’s gaze wanders up and down his wrecked body, taking in his gasping lips and red cheeks, his shuddering belly, his cock jutting desperately against the pantyhose. His hand wanders up the inside of Holden’s thigh, nudging his legs open wider. 

Holden eagerly stretches his legs open, and digs his heels into his mattress to arch his hips up in an obscene display of need. 

“Please.” He whispers, squirming uncontrollably against the slow graze of Bill’s palm traveling up his thigh. “Please, I’m so hard … it hurts.” 

Bill’s mouth purses against a satisfied smile. Curling his fingers under the waistband of the hose, he drags the suffocating nylon down Holden’s hips and thighs. 

Holden lifts his hips to let the shredded pantyhose slide away, letting his bare, aching cock breathe at last.

Bill rolls the hose all the way down around his ankles, and snatches the ripped underwear from between his thighs. Settling down at Holden’s side, he smooths a hand across one quaking, inner thigh. 

Holden bites back a whimper, and casts Bill a pleading gaze. 

Bill's hand trails along the crux of his thigh and hip, toying absently with curling strands of pubic hair. 

Holden bites into his lower lip watching his red, swollen cock throb angrily against the pale stretch of his belly. He tries not a whine as he arches his hips toward the distracted caress of Bill’s hand. He doesn’t want to have to beg for it anymore, but Bill is going to make him. Either that, or he’s going to be here for the next five minutes, making an even further fool of himself by breaking down into desperate, over-aroused tears. 

“Please.” He manages, barely a scraped whisper from the confines of his constricting throat. 

Bill’s dusky blue eyes journey along Holden’s twitching cock, and up his stuttering chest to meet Holden’s panicked gaze. 

“I can’t hear you.” He says. 

Holden swallows convulsively against the cry building the back of his throat. 

“Please.” He whimpers, curling his hips towards Bill’s hand. “Please, let me come, I’m begging.” 

“Good.” Bill says, “Maybe this will teach you not to be such a little whore, hm?” 

Holden nods, desperately. “Yes, sir.” 

Bill’s hand grasps him suddenly, lurching Holden’s reeling body from untouched agony to overwhelmed sensation in a matter of seconds. 

Holden gasps, his hips seizing up against the indelicate, almost brutal caress. His eyes slam shut as pleasure crests hot and fierce behind his eyelids, requiring little more than a few deliberate strokes to urge his need into fully realized orgasm. 

Bill’s hand strokes him four times. Midway through the fifth, Holden comes hard and abundantly, his cock spasming with gush after gush of pent-up release. His eyes slam shut over the eruption of white behind his eyelids, and his mouth stretches open in choked, breathless cry of bliss. He curls into Bill’s stroking, burying his face in the warm, solid cushion of Bill’s chest as the pleasure has it’s way with him, working him over with deep, helpless spasms until he’s drained and panting, sinking limply against the sheets. 

Bill’s stroking eases as Holden melts against his chest, whimpering a finished noise from the back of his throat. He can hardly move, but his body feels good - buoyant and humming with satisfaction - in a way that he’s never felt before. He closes his eyes, not wanting that feeling to end. 

***

They lay still in silence for several minutes until Bill gets up to retrieve a kleenex to wipe his hand. He carries a handful back to the bed to clean away the worst from Holden’s belly and chest. 

His gaze is firmly focused on Holden’s chest as he wipes away the dappled spots of cum that Holden had managed to shoot all the way up along his collarbones. 

“That felt really good, right?” Holden whispers. His hands are still cuffed above his head, but he isn’t concerned with getting them off. 

After some hesitation, Bill mutters, “Yeah.” 

“You’re really good at that.”

“What?” Bill’s gaze flickers up to meet Holden’s for half a second before darting away again. 

“Playing the bad cop.” Holden whispers, feeling his cheeks growing hot again just thinking about the little details of the roleplay. 

Bill clears his throat as he gets up to find his cigarettes in the discarded pile of his clothing. 

“Do you have the key for those cuffs somewhere?” He asks, as he straightens to light up. 

“In my suitcase.” Holden says, “I put it in my toiletry bag so I wouldn’t lose it.” 

Bill shuffles into the bathroom, and Holden can hear him searching through the bag for a moment before he comes back. 

“Have you ever done that before?” Holden asks, curiously, as Bill sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Bill motions for Holden to give him his cuffed wrists, and Holden stretches his arms out, keeping his gaze focused on Bill’s downturned gaze. 

“Have you done it with Nancy?” 

Bill’s gaze cuts to him with a flare of annoyance. “Don’t ask about my wife after I just fucked you in women’s lingerie.” 

“Sorry.” Holden mutters, “I’m just curious. It seemed like you knew what you were doing.” 

“So did you.” Bill says, “You planned this all out, didn’t you?” 

“Yes. I’ve been planning it for weeks. But I’ve never done it before.”

Bill unlocks both cuffs, and carefully extricates them from Holden’s wrists. He turns Holden’s arms over his hands, inspecting the raw, red marks left behind by the sharp edges of the manacles. He rubs his thumb over one particularly irritated area, and Holden winces. 

“That hurts?” 

“A little. I’ll be okay.” 

Bill sighs. “We shouldn’t do this again.” 

“Why not?” 

“For one, it started because of Jerry Fucking Brudos.” Bill says, releasing Holden’s wrists with a disgusted grunt. “You shouldn’t be emulating anything that fucker says or does.” 

“It’s just a fantasy.” Holden says, “It’s harmless in the right context.” 

“Harmless.” Bill echoes, taking a hard drag of his cigarette. “It was harmless for him too, right up until he started killing women.” 

“Don’t compare me to him.” Holden says, his brow furling in disbelief. “A lot people have these fantasies. Wendy said cross-dressing is-”

“I know. Practiced in cultures all around the world for centuries.” Bill interrupts, “You’re not a cross-dresser or a transvestite, Holden. Now come on, get cleaned up and get dressed. We have to go fulfill another one of your fantasies.” 

Holden scowls as Bill rises from the bed, and goes into the bathroom. The door swings shut behind him, leaving him alone in the silence of the hotel room. Holden glances down at the ripped pantyhose dangling around his calves, and the black heels glistening in the midday sunlight spilling under the hem of the curtains.

He thinks about how Bill had succumbed so easily to the roleplay, and how he’d shuddered when Holden called him ‘sir’. Of course Bill has to be a little disgruntled about the whole thing. Wendy had challenged his masculinity over the topic of cross-dressing. He wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t get just a little bit angry, but Holden knows the frustration is barely skin deep. He wonders what it would take to make Bill break down and recreate this dirty little fantasy over again; he’s curious, very curious. 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> The moment during the Speck interview when he calls Holden "little boy," and Bill looks like he's about to go feral with rage is perhaps one of my favorite little moments from s1. I just had to incorporate it. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!


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